


Embers

by kissmyapplejuice



Series: Helsaweek 2020 [3]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Frozen (Disney Movies), Frozen - Anderson-Lopez & Lopez/Lee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Day 3, F/M, Hans Has Fire Powers (Disney), Helsa Week 2020 (Disney), Helsaweek 2020, Helsaweek2020, Powerless!Elsa, fire!hans, powers, prompt 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissmyapplejuice/pseuds/kissmyapplejuice
Summary: The Curse of the Thirteenth has plagued Hans his whole life, but a curious queen from Arendelle may change all of that.
Relationships: Elsa/Hans (Disney)
Series: Helsaweek 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710778
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	Embers

**Author's Note:**

> "A spark of kindness starts a fire of love."
> 
> I just stole the names from my other fanfic Scars because I was too lazy to look up new ones. Helsaweek is exhausting. Huge shout out to nap_princess for her help and beta reading most of this. Anyway, onto day 3!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except the stuff I create, and to be honest, Disney owns most of the things I love anyway.

Although Hans knows little about the outside world, _this_ he knows. The neighboring kingdom's new Queen was finishing up her royal tour, and it was the Southern Isles' turn to host the final leg of the event.

 _She_ piques his interest, as well as everyone else's.

Lars became a great source of knowledge on the said queen when he had returned from the coronation two months prior. Lars spared no details, telling his youngest brother and their family all about the young woman. Elsa was apparently a quiet woman who kept to herself for the most part, apart from the occasional dances with dignitaries. She's a lover of books, skilled at chess, and enjoys music. Lars boasted to his father that she has all the makings of a great queen despite her young age.

"Determined." Lars had chimed in. Followed by, "She has a good head on her shoulders."

And now, gazing out into the harbor at the ship bearing the royal colors of Arendelle, Hans feels his heart flutter as she steps off the vessel because she was more than he ever could have imagined.

From his perch on the balcony, he notes the dress that Elsa was wearing, displaying his family colors of red and gold, a sign of good faith towards their alliance. He makes out the darkness of her hair and the color of her blue eyes; she's the spitting image of her late mother. The very woman Hans had met so many years prior before he was shut away after the incident at the stables. She had been so kind to him. The memory was such a happy one for him that Hans finds himself unable to look away from the woman on the docks. With every step she takes, his ember eyes try to differentiate her grace and reserved nature from his memory of her mother.

He could have spent the afternoon observing her, if not for the burning smell that grabs his attention. It pulls him to turn to look at the stack of books behind him. He had brought them out with him for some light reading to keep himself occupied, but now they're starting to smolder.

He grimes at the familiar sight. With a heavy sigh, he pours the pitcher of water over them, killing the gathering flames, and flops down into the seat, face in his hands. There's a reason he had to stay away.

Elsa curtsied for the twelfth time as she greets the last prince in the receiving line. All the princes bowing at the Queen before their father dismisses them. As Elsa watches them file out of the hall, a question starts to plague her.

"King Olav, Queen Siobhan, if I may ask a question," She turns back to the two monarchs as they continue their tour of the castle.

"Yes, my dear," Siobhan offers her arm, and Elsa quickly takes it, feeling an odd kinship to the older woman.

"Mama and Papa always talked about how the Southern Isles had thirteen princes," Elsa notices as the queen and king tense, "but I only met twelve, did something happen to your thirteenth son?"

"Hans is ill," King Olav's tone is harsh, "he has been told to keep away from you during your visit, Your Majesty. For your own safety, Hans can be…unpredictable,"

"I don't…" Elsa is cut short by one of the stewards passing the King a note.

"I'm sorry, Queen Elsa, but I have a matter to tend to," King bows to the Queens, "I will see you tonight."

Elsa watches the portly King walk away with his steward, feeling a sadness wash over her as he addresses his son with such coldness.

"Is whatever Prince Hans has really that dangerous?" Elsa asks as she and Queen Siobhan continue their walk, taking in the history of the halls.

The older woman presses her lips together, gathering her strength and words before nodding. "It's something that Hans had since he was born."

Elsa regards Siobhan with interest, not daring to interrupt her.

"We sought out help for it, but they said that it was something that is both beautiful and dangerous," the elder Queen lets out a sigh, "but we've only seen the danger, but I am afraid that the fear he has only made it worse. Olav keeps Hans at bay, not by any fault of his own, but we have found that is the only we can keep everyone safe,"

"What's wrong with him?"

"The curse of the thirteenth son," Siobhan smiles sadly, her green eyes reflecting the sorrow only a mother knows. Elsa feels the questions swirling in her mind with each silent second. Elsa watches the older woman wrestle with tears stinging her eyes. "It isn't his fault. I thought my love would be enough but Olav..." The Southern Isles' queen's throat closes as she tries to repress her tears. Elsa opens her mouth to respond but she's silenced by Siobhan stopping in front of her door. She wipes away a few tears while she nods to the door, "I will leave you to get ready, Elsa,"

But before Queen Siobhan can turn to leave, Elsa asks, "What's the curse?"

"It's best that you leave the subject alone, Elsa," Siobhan's voice is stressed.

"But…"

"Please. Don't." Siobhan utters, her hands clasped together.

Elsa's own hands flex anxiously before she tips her head, nodding understandingly.

She curtsies one last time before entering the privacy of her room. With her head hung low, Elsa lets her thoughts run. She can't help but wonder, what could be so wrong with the prince that his own family would turn on him?

* * *

Hidden from sight, Hans watches from the wall of the ballroom.

He concludes that Elsa's much prettier up close than from his balcony. Her hair was like dark wood or fine chocolate, and her bright blue eyes seemed to glitter like expensive gems in the candlelight. She seems to be very regal, yet there is something about her that seems playful, concealed underneath her royal exterior.

He wants to know more about her but knows he shouldn't. He knows he is forbidden to approach her. His night will likely be filled with dramatic sighs and pensive stares into his drink. Hans is prepared to stay in the shadows until he feels a figure beside him.

"You're Prince Hans, correct?"

Hans grips the glass, tightly, surprised by the voice addressing him. _Repress, don't stoke_. He takes a few deep breaths and turns his eyes to see the object of his curiosity in the front of him.

"Queen Elsa," Hans bows, pressing his lips tightly together, "yes, I am Prince Hans,"

"You weren't in the grand hall to receive me this morning," Elsa's face is unreadable. Hans clears his throat and corrects his posture as he looks down at Arendelle's Queen.

"My father thought it best for everyone if I stayed in my room,"

"Well," Elsa offers him a bright smile and extends her hand for him to take, "I don't agree. So, to make it up to me, I require a dance from you,"

"Queen Elsa, I don't think…"

"Would you refuse a queen?" She raises an eyebrow, challenging him to say no.

Hans freezes, unable to stammer out any rejections. He's put on the spot, and he knows he won't be able to slip away. The accumulated crowd whispers around them as they look on at the rarely seen prince and the visiting monarch. He feels every person's eyes on him, daring him to say no.

Hans' eyes dart around until they finally land back on her. Her hand is still stretched out for him to take. He cannot just stand there like a fool.

Recovering, he smiles and takes her hand, leading her onto the dance floor. The music starts and he finds his father's hateful glare aimed at him.

"Do you always wear gloves?" Her voice pulls him to her, her blue eyes searching his brown.

"Yes…it's for…"

"Your curse?"

"How did…"

"Your mother told me," Elsa smiles up at him, "all handsome princes in storybooks do,"

"I…I…um…" Hans feels his cheeks turning red at her words as they continue their turn on the dance floor.

"I tease, Prince Hans," A soft giggle coming from her, "but don't let anyone know that a queen can jest,"

"I won't make any promises," Hans feels an unfamiliar feeling in his chest as he looks down at her grinning face, finding his own mirroring her joy.

Then, without warning, she quickly pulls him off the floor.

"Now, come with me," She gathers her skirt up as she leads him away from the flowing music and clinking of champagne glasses. She pulls him along, running to the gardens. "Come now while most of the attention is off of us,"

"Queen Elsa!" He looks back in panic, hoping someone would stop them. No one did. She pulls them deep into the castle garden, the sounds of the party, nothing more than a faint hum. "Queen Elsa, stop," Elsa turns, her smile immediately fades when she sees the panic on his face.

"What?"

"You shouldn't be alone with me," He tells her.

"If you are worried about propriety, I can assure you…"

"No, you shouldn't be alone with me…period,"

"At my coronation, Lars spoke of you often," Elsa says.

Hans' ears perk up at his brother's name, "I'm surprised he spoke of me,"

"He loves you whether he says it or not," Elsa reveals. "However, I would like to see the brother he talked about. I think I would get along with him, and since your family seems so intent on keeping you locked away…this was the only way I could get to know you,"

Hans smiles at her sentiment.

In actuality, no one really asked for him when they visited or questioned his parents when they answered about his absence. She was just as curious about him as he was with her.

So it's no surprise that they found themselves falling down a rabbit hole. The prince and the queen talked for hours. No one seemed to look for them, but he speculated that she was missed. They talked of their childhoods and philosophy. Politics and gossip.

"Queen Elsa, if you don't mind me asking,"

"What?"

"Why did Lars bring me up at all?"

She softly smiles and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. "He caught me reading Robinson Crusoe. I know, hardly a lady-like book," Elsa says when she notes the expression he made, "but he told me all about your love for it,"

"You like Robinson Crusoe?" Hans echoes.

Elsa smiles and nods, taking him over to a nearby bench. "It was one of my favorite books to read when I was growing up. Anna used to make our Papa do all sorts of voices for the characters. I still find myself reading it when I feel like running away from all the pressures of being queen,"

"Do you want to go on a grand adventure, Queen Elsa?"

"You can just call me Elsa, Hans. I mean, after all, I did whisk you away to the gardens without a chaperone. I think formalities are behind us,"

"Ah," Hans shifts away from her, smiling down at his folded gloved hands, "I suppose you're right,"

"But to answer your question," Elsa leans back, taking in the starry night, "what royal doesn't? For as long as I can remember I've been given so many lessons to prepare me for what I am now. I remember watching Anna…"

"Anna is your younger sister, right?"

"Yes, she is," The way Elsa's face lights up tells Hans she genuinely cares for her sister. "I'm very lucky to have her. However, I remember being so jealous of her when we were younger. I would watch her as she pranced around without a care in the world. She never had to learn about economics and political structures. The only thing that she seemed to ever worry about was what kind of prince she was going to marry,"

"And what kind of prince will she marry?"

"One who will carry her away on his noble steed," Elsa lets out a small giggle at the thought.

Hans lets out an amused chuckle. "Your sister sounds like she lives in a world of fairy tales,"

"She does," Elsa turns her head slightly to smile at him. "As I said, some days I envy her, but then again, I don't. What about you? Are there any days that you envy your brothers?"

"Every single one," Hans admits as he gets up from the bench. Pensively walking towards the hedge maze. "None of them are cursed,"

"What is your curse, Hans?" Her voice is soft as if she is talking to a child, "Your mother refused to talk about it,"

"It's not something we talk about," Hans' hands fall to his side, "Repress, don't stoke,"

"So," Hans nearly jumps out of his skin when she speaks. She had gotten up off the bench and was much closer than he thought, "what would happen if…" She yanks off one of his gloves, dangling it in front of him. A smirk playing over her face, "I was to take one of these gloves off?"

"Elsa!" He goes to grab the glove, but she's too quick as she ducks under his arm, fleeing away from him. "Elsa, please!"

"Come and get it!" She races off into the maze, Hans close behind her.

"Elsa!" _How was she so fast in her heels?_

"It's just a glove, Hans,"

"Please, you don't…" Elsa waves the glove at him while she stands at the end of the stretch of the maze.

"Ooh, look at me, I'm a glove keeping Hans' curse at bay,"

"Elsa. Stop!"

Before he knows it, a burst of flame shoots out of his hand. Hitting the hedge behind her. Elsa's mouth drops as she stares at the bush. The leaves slowly being eaten away by the flames. Hans quickly rushes towards the sight, pouring out a flask of water onto the flames.

He turns to Elsa inspecting her, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Elsa's face looks to him and then back at the hedge, "You can…"

"Please, no one must know. If father finds out you know, it will surely be the end of me,"

"You can make fire…" Elsa looks at him. Her blue eyes searching his panicked face, his eyes avoiding hers, "with your hands…"

"Yes, and can I have my glove back? I don't hurt you want to hurt you again,"

"You didn't hurt me," Elsa points to the bush, the glove dangling from her hand, "you hurt the bush,"

"It could have hurt you,"

"But you didn't," Hans connects his ember eyes with hers. Instead of fear, he finds something he's never seen before. Fascination. Her face splits into an excited grin, "do it again,"

"Elsa, I can hurt you,"

"Come on, do the magic," His eyes fall to her mouth as she bits on her bottom lip in excitement, "please!"

Hans suddenly feels compelled to follow the lady's request. His hand erupts into flames dancing around his fingers. Her eyes light up with joy as she looks at the flames, walking around it. "It doesn't hurt you?"

"No," Elsa's hand goes up, warming her fingers on the flame as she traces the dancing tendrils, "it's like that feeling in the morning before you pull back the sheets,"

"Fascinating," Hans studies her, confused by her lack of fear. Everyone feared him.

"You aren't scared?"

"My mother comes from a place where magic coexists with humans," a soft smile playing on her lips, "I've always been taught that magic is a gift,"

"A gift? Surely not," Hans waves the flame out, "this _curse_ makes me a monster,"

He snatches the glove from Elsa, who stares at him in shock as he storms away from her.

"Why?" Her question causes him to pause. His gloved hand calling up into a fist, why couldn't she understand that this wasn't a good thing?

"Because it does nothing but cause destruction,"

"No, it doesn't! You didn't destroy anything just now," Hans turns back towards Elsa, and she looks up at him, the first look of fear spreading across her face.

"Don't you see that hedge, Elsa?" Hans points to the charred portion of the maze, her blue eyes following his gesture, "that could have been you! You can try to see this as a gift all you want, but I could have hurt you, Elsa," Hans feels his voice crack from his unshed tears, "I would never forgive myself if you had gotten hurt you,"

"But you didn't," She turns back to him, her face smiling softly at him. Her hands hold his face to look at her.

"Elsa, I'm a monster, don't you see that?!" Hans grips her wrist, determined to once again break away from her.

"I don't think you are," Hans stops, his anger fading as he looks at the sincerity in her face, "I think you are a man who has been told his whole life that he is nothing more than his curse,"

"Because…"

"I've been in this garden with you for two hours, Hans Westergaard, and never once have I felt threatened. Never once have you hurt me," She takes his hands into hers, "for two hours I've gotten to know a man who loves books and adventure. A man who has a wonderful understanding of politics and economics. You are kind, Hans, and perhaps a little misunderstood,"

"Elsa, you don't understand. I've burnt down buildings. Hurt my family. You should be afraid…"

"Your mother told me she thinks the fear that you have is what makes it worse," Elsa traces the stitching on the white gloves. "Just now, when you knew I wasn't afraid, you controlled it just fine,"

Hans ponders her words, watching the delicate nature of her fingers touching him without fear.

"You aren't the monster that they say that you are, Hans," Hans looks up to see her blue eyes studying him, yet again.

"How do you know?"

"Because any person's whose eyes remind me of warm fires during Yule can't be a monster," Elsa smiles, "plus the fire spirit can be tamed when not scared,"

"Fire spirit?"

"Anna named him Bruni when we were younger. He lives in the Enchanted Forest, north of Arendelle, where my mother is from," Elsa takes off his gloves again.

"No…" He tries to stop her, but she holds up her hand to silence him.

"I'm not scared,"

"I could hurt you," He looks at the bare flesh of his skin, "I don't want to hurt you, Elsa,"

"Then don't,"

"My curse…" Elsa leans up, her lips a whisper's breath away from his.

"Thus fear of danger," Hans shivers at her breath on his lips, "is ten thousand times more terrifying than danger itself,"

"Robinson Crusoe…"

"I don't fear you, Hans," She kisses his cheek and takes his hand leading him back towards the ball, "and I will make it so you don't fear you either,"

"What if it takes a lifetime?" Hans marvels at the feeling of her skin on his.

"Then a lifetime it shall be." They smile at each other as they enter the light of the ballroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Now, I'm skipping tomorrow because I have nothing prepared, so see you guys Friday!
> 
> Love,
> 
> KMA


End file.
